For some reason it wasn't updating me on this thread, so I will have to post-RP the run.
Leg 9: Nothing dramatic, the car despite not being 4WD did exceptionally well.
Leg 10: This leg went much easier, Marc picked up a souvenir for his son at the trading post.
Leg 11: Some steep climbs and snags provided a bit of a bumpy ride but otherwise, the Enforcer soldiered on.
Leg 12: Return to dialogue.
Marc: Man! I've never driven through an orchard before, this is fun.
Blake: Just watch the sides, I don't want this car scratched to shit.
Marc: You're that concerned about a car you only spent $500 on?
Blake: You of all people should understand that.
Marc: Bite me.
(CRACK! BAM! RATTLE!)
Marc: What the hell was that?
Blake: Shit, I don't know. Come on girl, hold together!
Marc: I'm turning the A/C off, no sense in having excess load... strange.
Marc: I'm not noticing any power loss, well, any more power loss.
Blake: We're not far now, we'll have to take a look when we make it in.
Leg 13: The home stretch.
Blake: Something's been bothering me.
Marc: Oh? What is that?
Blake: The problems we're having with this car, I know those TriForce engines, those injectors should hold out for at least another 150,000 miles. Not to mention whatever that other problem is, we only passed 150,000 two hours ago.
Marc: What are you saying? That we've gotten really unlucky?
Blake: I'm not sure, but I'm gonna check for any more codes.
(Blake hooks the Petoskey XGV Scanner into the OBDII port)
Blake: Hmm, nothing new. Just for shits and giggles... son of a bitch!
Blake: Look at this.
(Marc looks at the scanner, under the info menu)
Marc: Wait a minute, the dash says 150,112!
Blake: Yup, someone played us for fools.
Marc: Well, it doesn't matter, we've got a final stretch to run.
Blake: Yeah, damned if we do, damned if we don't
(Team Outriders was in for a tense drive, in addition to the death rattle, some visible smoke was coming out the tail pipes. Despite the nerve-wracking voyage, the Enforcer made it to the Double Chevron Ranch.)
Blake: Not far now.
Marc: Just a bit further
(After some rough, twisting private roads, the Enforcer crosses the line.)
Marc: Hell yeah! We did it!
Blake: Let's get some chow.
(After an excellent dinner, and congratulating Dorito Dorito on his victory, Blake set to work pulling spark plugs out of the inactive cylinders on the Enforcer in an effort to better understand what went wrong.)
Marc: Any luck?
Blake: Nothing in this one, (works on the next cylinder) Holy shit, you're not gonna believe this!
Marc: How bad is it?
Blake: Fucking valve fell out of the head and rattled around the cylinder, punched a hole right in the piston.
Marc: How does that even happen?
Blake: My guess would be due to the high mileage, the springs aren't returning as strong as they should be. Thus, especially at higher RPMs the collar must have slipped down enough that the valve retainers popped out causing the valve to drop into the cylinder.
Marc: In other words, we've got to hitchhike back? Well, maybe one of the other teams will be gracious enough to give us a ride.
Blake: No need, look over there.
(Picture a flatbed trailer behind this truck.)
Marc: Hello Charlotte.
Blake: I wasn't sure what our chances were so I rented a flatbed trailer and had Charlotte follow us.
Marc: You think of everything don't you?
Blake: That's how we got across the line.
Marc: We so gotta do this again, with a better car.
Blake: Hell no, if we're doing this again, I'm taking the Enforcer. After it gets some considerable TLC that is.
Epilogue: Team Outriders finished third overall in the competition, though they did not win the pistons welded to a flywheel, both men agree that simply making it to the end was a great victory. Marc Levinstein resumed working his normal shifts on the Tatum Heights Police Force. He still found the time to make a little inquiry into the Whitefish Bluffs DPW in regards to Odometer fraud. Blake Worden set to work on the Enforcer tearing the engine apart to do a complete rebuild. Come next challenge, he plans to have the Enforcer ready to handle anything that's thrown its way.